


Soft As Shadows We’ll Become

by alphatoothless



Series: In The Summer Silence [1]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha!Maxwell, Insane!Wilson, M/M, Omega!Wilson, Scientist!Wilson, Therapist!Maxwell, abo!dynamics, soulmate!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 17:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphatoothless/pseuds/alphatoothless
Summary: Maxwell couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears - the way his mind seemed to race as he looked around the room in anticipation. As if, by some strange chance, he was there already, just waiting to pounce.“Maxy, let’s go.” Charlie states a little louder, grabbing his wrist. Maxwell nodded then, his body moving of its own accord as he stood on wobbly legs and followed the directions mindlessly. He looked up at the TV screen one last time before they stumbled out.The picture of that man seemed to stare after him as its view disappeared.





	Soft As Shadows We’ll Become

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me if this is a little rusty, this is my first fic I’ve written in a good while as well as my very first Don’t Starve story! 
> 
> I do hope y’all enjoy it!

“What makes someone a villain?”

He watched the man in front of him narrow his eyes slightly in thought, his silence and lack of answer somehow deafening between them. Then came the soft, yet grating, scrape of metal against cold metal as the other shifted in his seat. 

“What makes someone a villain, hm?” The other echoes softly, but the hint of an uninterpretable undertone left chills in his interviewer. “I don’t know. What makes someone a hero, Mr. Carter?”

“I...” William started before the other smirked. It was a smirk that typically promised a malicious answer if he continued, so he found himself biting his tongue and waiting for the other to finish.

However, it was clear the other was in one of his uncharacteristically impassive moods when the other instead leaned back and rolled his hand, gesturing for him to continue. William opened his mouth once again before shaking his head in quiet defeat - a practiced motion. 

“I’m...I’m not entirely sure.” 

“Is it that you’re wondering what could possibly make good men turn evil - or that you really want to know what turned me into what I am now?” The other’s smirk widened, his fanged teeth glistening in the harsh bright fluorescent lights. “Or, as your colleagues formally refer to me as, a monstrous villain?” 

“I just don’t...understand, truthfully.” William admitted sheepishly. He didn’t want to lie - he’d heard plenty of therapists before him having lied to this man, only for it to backfire as quickly as the lie had been uttered. 

Perhaps this was why he’d come as far as he’d come - at least, that’s what he liked to believe.

“And what exactly don’t you understand?”

“Why?” He gently patted the case file - the criminal file - between them, watching dark eyes lazily glance down with mild disinterest. “Why did you do it - any of it?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” The man then sighed, his mood shifting into that of obvious boredom. “One can only be pushed so far before they start pushing back.” 

“But that’s not all.” William pressed, daring. “You said so yourself on our first day that there was more to what happened.” 

“Then a better question for you is - what exactly do you define as a villain, Mr. Carter?” Dark eyes meet his and he feels a shiver run down his spine. The way those eyes seemed so dark - any light seeming to disappear in their endless pupils left him fidgeting in his seat. He swallows absently as those eyes bore into him - examining him carefully. He tried to keep his nervous expression neutral despite his unwanted self-awareness. 

“Humans may not be as primal as we once were, but that doesn’t mean we’ve completely removed our feral instincts.” The man tapped his fingers on the metal table as he continued. “Our instincts, our lust, our emotions - they’re all what makes us so guilty of our heated passions.” 

“Not to mention the biological component we can’t seem to get rid of - the ABO subject that, no matter how hard we try to get rid of it, we just can’t seem to shake.” The man started to giggle slightly then, a soft and unsteady sound that made William shift. “Imagine that? Our own genetics win against us even now. Disease, emotions, mental illness,“ eyes stare into his, unwavering, “it all overpowers us at some point. Science or not, we are all, at one point or another, slaves to our own whims.” 

“So, I ask you again, what is a villain to you, William? Someone who kills others just for the sake of it - for the thrill of it? Or maybe someone who kills others because they have an ulterior motive, a legitimate reason?” The man hummed softly. “I could give you a sad, lonely backstory that makes you believe that there’s some shred of pity you should have for me, but I’d much rather you hate me than hold sympathy for me. I find that only fair, wouldn’t you?”

William just stared at the other with a frown before the man huffed. 

“I am a villain, Mr. Carter. You don’t end up in a place like this if you’re not.” A scoff. “I’m sure you could take a simple glimpse at my file and know that much.” 

And with that, the man pushed himself up, sighing indignantly before he turned on his heel and knocked on the bolted door with practiced ease. William watched the other waddle out the door after a moment, the chains around his ankles and arms rattling as he disappeared into the darker depths of the prison walls. A part of William had hoped the other would look back at him just once in his departure - and he was amazed that the lack of such an event made him feel sad. 

William Carter began to wonder if he wasn’t going a little mad himself. 

In the coming days, William had looked further into the other’s case file. Of course it was his job to study and pick at the other’s brain, to understand and to document his findings, but he’d felt a strange sort of obsession with the other - a strangely growing interest in learning all there was to know about the other. He didn’t miss the subtle angered looks he received from his colleagues - jealous and questioning why his client had chosen him to speak to above all others.

The psychological criminal case of a century and William Carter was the chosen one. 

The best in the field, world-renowned had lined up to speak with the man, and each had been turned down or completely ignored. But, for whatever reason, William Carter had been the one to finally crack the metaphoric barrier. While some said it was simple biology, William was beginning to think it might have something to do with his own secret he’d thought was long lost. 

And a part of him, a part he didn’t dare speak about to others, truly hoped the other shared that same secret. 

He was back to trudging up to the secluded jail once more, one of his arms holding the same large, worn Manila envelopes and half-scribbled notebooks while his other fished out his usual concealed gun and badge from his coat pockets. 

“Wilson Percival Higgsbury, please.” William smiled nervously, although the guard held little surprise at his request. 

The guard grunted as he begrudgingly dragged the gun and badge through the slotted window. William turned when the gate let out a shrill screech before the scraping of metal on metal joined. He tried not to wince as he waited for the cacophony of noises to finally cease. Finally, a guard gestured for him to follow before he was surrounded by curious glances of inmates in their sealed rooms. Some were less interested in his appearance, having seen him plenty of times already, but some were new faces - desperate for a taste of that outside world they’d recently lost sight of. 

After seating himself in the usual room, neatly organizing his paperwork throughout the table, he waited in a stiff cold chair patiently. It wasn’t but a moment later when he was greeted with the other’s dark eyes and tired scowl after the familiar screeching of bolted metal doors opening. It was clear the other hadn’t slept the night before, or perhaps even the night before that, but he said nothing as the door behind him closed. Latches locked, what had been terrifying months ago was now a relief - the secured sound of finally being one-on-one. 

“Good morning, Wilson.” William offered a small smile. 

The other just huffed in annoyance by the door, not even bothering to look behind him to observe the secured door. The only warming factor for William, the very fact that the man even remotely wanted to be there, was the fact that Wilson had agreed to meet him despite his clear disturbed insomnia. The other practically threw himself into the metal chair across from him, his shackles rattling angrily as he did so. William tried not to cringe at the sound, but found himself doing so anyway. 

“Sorry.” Wilson leaned forward onto the metal table, resting his face in his hands for a moment before he sat up slightly to look directly at William. “What’s it today, Mr. Carter? Origin story? More psychological probing? Questions about my experiments?” 

“Can I ask something a little less professional?” William watched the other tilt his head slightly. “Do you have trouble sleeping?” 

“I do suffer from insomnia, yes.” Wilson replied snappily. “I believe you’ve read my medical file enough to know that by now.” 

“Is it...nightmares or...just not being able to fall asleep?” 

Wilson stared at him before rolling his eyes and turning away. It was clear the other was antsy about something despite his irritability, his hands trembling and shaking before finally settling on tapping on the metal table. William watched him curiously, wondering what had prompted the other’s strange behavior lately. 

“Typically, it’s just the nightmares. But my insomnia tends to worsen before my heat.” Wilson squinted at the other. “You’re an alpha, aren’t you?” 

“I...I am, yes.” 

Wilson scoffed before leaning back in his chair, just enough to look at the ceiling easily. His feet hooked around the table legs as he let out a long, low groan. William felt his face heat as he thought about the other being in heat. He quickly forced his attention to the table, his fingers fiddling with a pen he’d pulled out of his pocket. 

“It will be a while before you return after today, then.” Wilson rubbed his temples with slim fingers. “Unfortunately, prison-issued heat blockers aren’t as effective as they like to believe.” 

“Are you being put into solitude for your heat?” 

“I would imagine so.” The other smirked knowingly. “No one wants to mate with a psychopathic omega.” 

William turned away, hiding his face as he focused on the heavy brick walls around them. He tried not to let his mind wander into the belief that maybe, just maybe, the other knew of the developing weight in his heart. He heard the other’s chair hit the ground once more. 

“Tell me, Mr. Carter - do you have a mate?” 

“I d-don’t, no.” William cringed at the stammer before he shifted in his seat. 

“A soulmate, then?”

William felt his breath hitch before he swallowed thickly. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind then that Wilson had caught on - just as he’d predicted would happen. William opened his mouth slightly before closing it and nodding. 

“I have a soulmate, yes.”

“Let me see your wrist.” That voice was stern, a command uncommon in omegas, and even rarer when directed toward an alpha. William found himself obeying the command hesitantly, turning his hand over as the other reached forward with gentle hands. 

A calloused and scarred thumb rubbed over the symbol on his wrist and William felt his heart stutter when the symbol matched he one on the omega’s wrist. 

And then his hands were smacked out of the way. The omega stood, and a feral, deep snarl ripped from his throat - jarring William completely. The alpha looked up in curiosity and shock, surprised to see a malicious fanged growl directed toward him. 

“Do you think this is a game, Mr. Carter?” 

“I’m - I’m sorry?” William stiffened when hands slammed onto the metal table, the echo piercing his ears as he stumbled backward out of his chair. He could hear guards shifting the bolted door hurriedly, but his focus sternly remained on the smaller man before him. 

“Do you seek to make a mockery of me, William?” Wilson’s voice was deadly, a venomous tone seeping into William’s heart like no other. “You think this is some humorous joke? That the fates are a simple punchline?” 

“I-I don’t understand, Wilson.” William raised his hands in a calming manner, but his mind was racing with raw, pained emotion. He couldn’t understand - everything moved so quickly then. 

“A soulmate - my soulmate? You really think coming in here, as some random therapist, to mock me as if you were above me - you think this is funny? You think you’ve bested me?” 

“Wilson, that’s - I would never!” 

Guards were on top of Wilson in a matter of seconds and William remained pressed against the back wall, his eyes wide with shock. He watched the other being dragged away, body flailing in the guard’s arms uselessly. The sudden viciousness leaving William paralyzed as other guards looked at him in curiosity.

“Well, I can honestly say I’ve never see him go off like that before.” A guard stated, almost amusedly. “Whatdya do, Freud? Ask him about his dreams?” 

William grimaced as he shoved his papers together hurriedly and found himself rushing the escorting guard to let him free. He could feel the pain in his chest grow with each hurried step, his eyes threatening tears as he climbed into his car with jerking motions. 

The first person he called, as always in his dire times of need, was his trusted and beloved childhood friend.

“Charlie?” William whimpered pathetically, hearing the other coo soothingly in response. 

“Maxy.” William felt the tears hit him all at once at the nickname, the whole incident crashing over him in a rush as he began to sob. 

Charlie always knew what to do. 

William had known better than anyone that he’d been playing a dangerous game when he’d taken on the case of Wilson Percival Higgsbury, the great evil genius and infamous mad scientist. And Charlie had known that very game had very dangerous stakes - especially when said madman was the fated soulmate of her very dear friend. And while things had gone so smoothly thus far, she knew it was only a matter of time before the other had turned against William. 

After all, no one could trust a psychopathic omega.

And though he was reluctant, Charlie was able to convince her dear friend to move on. The signs of mental trauma weren’t at all ignorable and the endless scientific articles that fated soulmates weren’t always healthy or necessary had finally won her friend’s belief that returning for any future visits would be a mistake. In that strange time, William’s nickname had become more of a commonplace calling then, with William soon being well known as a Maxwell among more than just between the two friends. The man had changed, an alpha in his own birthright, as he allowed his motivation to guide his future. 

A future without a soulmate. 

He tried not to think about the heavy weight of his soulmate’s misunderstanding - or feral behavior in general, but the logic of the situation that being the soulmate of an insane criminal meant he was best staying as far away as possible. And he thought he was doing alright when he’d decided to move to a new area in the city - closer to Charlie and far enough away that he could focus on his new clientele. Everything had seemed to be going just swell - new job, new house, new name. 

Until the TVs in the restaurant he’d been sitting in with Charlie had erupted with emergent news.

“We warn anyone who sees this man to stay away and call 911 immediately. Do not approach him, do not confront him - he is a very dangerous, and insane, man.” 

Maxwell has felt his entire body freeze when his eyes locked into the dark, lifeless expression of the man he’d long tried to forget. Charlie looked just as dumbfounded, her eyes locked into the TV screen above them as the newscaster continued.

“Wilson Percival Higgsbury has escaped the Constant Federal State Prison with, what is believed by authorities, the assistance of an unidentified group that is a suspected underground gang.”

Maxwell finally turned to look at Charlie with wide eyes, watching the other remain stiff as she kept her attention forward. Maxwell could hear the echo of the reporter as he looked around the restaurant, aware that everyone had gone silent in favor of the report. He tried to calm his heart - surely, Wilson had forgotten. 

Surely, Wilson wouldn’t come for him. 

Maxwell knew he was in unimaginable danger and, not for the first time, he feared his soulmate’s existence. 

“Maxy.” Charlie whispered quietly, as if comfortingly. 

Maxwell couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears - the way his mind seemed to race as he looked around the room in anticipation. As if, by some strange chance, Wilson was there already, just waiting to pounce. 

“Maxy, let’s go.” Charlie states a little louder, grabbing his wrist. Maxwell nodded then, his body moving of its own accord as he stood on wobbly legs and followed the directions mindlessly. He looked up at the TV screen one last time before they stumbled out. 

The picture of Wilson seemed to stare after him as its view disappeared. 

\- - - 

A inky, clawed hand waved over the floor smoothly, those dark eyes now sporting a soft halo of glowing light as shadows moved to dance cheerily. The owner narrows his eyes before a wide, sharp smile pulls across a pale face. 

“My friends.” He purrs, watching seemingly fluffy shadows twist and bend around him. “It has been far too long.” 

He turns slowly, the shadows of the dark alleyway embracing him easily as he watches the object of his interest walk hurriedly from a restaurant, dragged away by a stranger. He smiles then, a small and disarming smile that would be misinterpreted by anyone who didn’t know of him.

“I do believe it’s time we play another game.” 

The shadows snickered around him.


End file.
